by LeCoeur, Ami
I leaned down and gave my sister a big hug.
"Have a great time, Ange," she whispered in my ear. "Remember to be home by midnight or you'll turn into a pumpkin."
Chapter Twelve
The driver was waiting impatiently at the limousine for me, his scowl firmly set in place again. I thanked him as I got in. He grunted in response and closed the door.
"So," I said when Thompson had secured himself in the driver’s seat. I gazed around the car’s interior, running my hands over the black leather seats. "How long have you been working for Mr. Mancini?"
"Long enough," he replied shortly.
I was taken aback by his cold tone, but I pressed on. Maria had seemed friendly with him, and she was a good judge of character. I even felt it was my sisterly duty to find out what Thompson kept hidden under that glower. Maybe I could find out a little bit more about Antonio, too. "Have you always been his driver?" I asked.
He grunted as the car pulled away from my house. I guessed that meant yes.
"Does Mr. Mancini attend these kinds of events often?"
"Often enough," he replied.
I rolled my eyes and sat back against the plush seats. Classical music drifted softly from the speakers and, despite Thompson’s curt and almost surly attitude, I realized how excited I was about this event. In matter of fact, I was actually looking forward to it.
At least, until Thompson smoothly turned the car onto the long drive way of a sprawling mansion. My heart instantly began beating faster. Thompson pulled the car to a stop in front of the wide steps, then stepped out of the car just as the double doors of the house opened. I saw the sharp, distinguished silhouette of Antonio Mancini. When he stepped out into the light, I caught my breath. The man wore a suit like he was born to it and I couldn’t help staring at the crisp clean lines that outlined a perfect body.
Thompson approached him confidently and they greeted each other with a hearty handshake like old friends. The cold, aloof limousine driver was gone. This man laughed openly, and even Antonio was animated as they chatted outside.
As if suddenly remembering I was waiting for him in the car, Antonio turned and looked right at me. I suddenly felt too exposed. Then I laughed, shaking my head at my foolishness. The windows were tinted. He couldn’t see me. Even so, as he and Thompson turned towards the window, my nerves tried to get the better of me. I moved my gaze from the two men, leaning back against the leather seat and closing my eyes.
"Good evening, Angela," Antonio said when the car door opened. He paused, his eyes roaming over me. A strange look came over his face and he licked his lips, reminding me of my recent dream. "You look … incredible," he whispered.
I blushed and stammered a thank you.
He stared at me for a moment longer, then it was as though his eyes shuttered and back came the cool, in-control demeanor I had come to expect. I was once again wary and observant, but a small voice in my head wondered about the whisper and the look in his eyes.
He settled into the seat beside me as Thompson closed the door. Antonio pushed a button and the privacy window rolled up with a quiet hum. "This evening may seem trivial on the surface, but it reflects one of your most important duties… as my associate," Antonio said. His tone was all business, even as he reached for a pair of wine glasses from the mini bar, handing one to me. "Consider this the first step in your probation."
I frowned, carefully holding out my glass, hoping he didn’t notice my unsteady hands. "This is some kind of test? I told you I don’t know anything about your industry. How am I supposed—"
"There are usually two or three of these events each month that require my attendance. If you do well tonight, I expect you to be available to attend future events with me."
I took a large sip of wine, feeling the cool sweetness slip down my throat. "As your escort."
"As my associate," he said quietly.
I glanced at him, taking in the strong jaw and stately profile. The wine was already calming my nervousness. But now, as I watched him, thinking back to how he had looked at me just moments before, I had to wonder.
"Nothing more?" I asked, feeling brazen.
But that evaporated pretty quickly as he sat there, silently watching me.
Chapter Thirteen
I could not have felt more out of place at the gallery. It wasn't the setting so much as the people who were in attendance. The lobby was filled with champagne-drinking models in some of the current designs from Paris. Around the perimeter of the room, mannequins displayed century-specific designs that reflected artists of the periods more than dresses worn by any of the citizenry.
Sure, I looked the part of a fashion representative, as Antonio told me several more times between introductions to various people whose names I could barely keep track of. And, I listened politely as he spoke to businessmen and women, politicians, designers, art curators; still, I couldn’t help but feel that I was little more than decoration. Beyond the basic introductions, he made no effort to include me in the conversations, and though I was picking up things here and there, there wasn't much for me to "learn". I most certainly wasn’t comfortable enough to improvise.
"Excuse me a moment, Antonio," I said when there was a lull in our mingling.
He turned to me, one eyebrow raised.
"I-I’m just going to the ladies room," I stammered. I really just needed to get away from the crowd. It was a convenient excuse to get a moment to myself.
He smiled and nodded.
I made my way to a ladies room, admiring the mannequins dressed in exquisite and elaborate costumes. Inside, several women were gathered in the sitting area, chatting away among themselves. They paused when I entered, watching me in the reflections of the wall-to-wall mirrors. I smiled at them, and one or two smiled back. I even thought I heard my name as I moved to the powder area to retouch my make-up. A moment later, I heard the rustle of bodies as they all got up and left the ladies room.
I stared after them, feeling as though I was back in high school.
"Ah, don’t mind them," said a voice that made me jump a bit. I turned to find a kindly woman sitting in a chair at the other end of the room. "They don’t mean anything by it."
I gave her a warm smile. "I guess they don’t like new people in their little club."
"Something like that," said the woman with a grin. "They’ll warm up when they get used to you. This is a pretty tight circle of folks. Lots of business deals and such that require trust. That’s not an easy thing to give."
"I suppose," I said, riffling around in my purse for some change to drop in the woman’s gilded tip jar. "Thank you."
Chapter Fourteen
Antonio was nowhere to be found when I returned to the main room. I wasn't surprised that someone had captured his attention. Certainly he was well known among the guests.
I looked around, but couldn’t find him anywhere. I took a deep breath and decided I could probably handle being on my own for a few minutes. I mean, really, what choice did I have anyway?
I made my way over to the exorbitant buffet table, stacked with all sorts of savory and decadent treats. I selected a tiny tart, flakey pastry topped with ruby red strawberries and a dollop of whipped cream. It was delicious, sweet but not too sweet, with that wonderful fresh fruit flavor. I closed my eyes for a moment as I savored it.
"I dunno, are you sure Mancini will come through?" asked a gravely voice on the other side of the tall plant where I was standing.
I froze, scanning the room surreptitiously to find the face that went with the voice. I found a balding man with a dark, trimmed beard, speaking with two other men.
"You know he's ruthless when it comes to agreements and making money. He knows what he wants," said the tallest of the three, a bespectacled man with a thick head of silvery hair. "And he knows how to give other people what they think they want."
"Yeah," said the third man, "once he's on your side, he always comes through, regardless of the cost."
"There’s no point in speculating," said the first man. "Harden is with him now. He's the best bet we have to convince Mancini to accept the deal. Either way, we have nothing to worry about."
"So you say," said the tall man, and all three of them laughed as they walked away from the buffet table.
I put a hand on the table to steady myself, trying to comprehend what I’d just overheard. These men could have been discussing any financial deal, but their tone indicated otherwise. They were counting on Antonio for something that sounded decidedly underhanded to me.
My mind raced back to the documents Mr. Conner's private detective had found for me, trying to make connections with some of the more shadowy details they’d dredged up about his connection with some of the more dubious citizens of our fine city. These men were sure he would come through—"regardless of the cost". What kind of people were these, and what kind of "agreements" was he involved in?
I watched the men as they made their way through the room. They stopped several times to talk with the various politicians and business leaders, laughing and shaking hands. But something felt off. What was their game?
I noticed the women hanging on their arms were young and beautiful. Much younger than the men. They smiled a lot, but were quiet, and didn't seem to serve any real purpose other than being attractive and nice to look at. They were like ornaments.
I shivered. The women weren't really any different from me!
I shook my head. What had I gotten myself mixed up in? These men obviously dabbled on the shady side of the law. What did that have to do with Antonio Mancini? How was he connected? Were these the kinds of people Dad used to deal with because of his gambling? I needed to find out the truth about Antonio. And to me, that meant going directly to the source for answers.
A door opened across the room as if on cue, and Antonio stepped out, followed by a large, red-faced man, puffing away on a cigar, despite the No Smoking signs.
I grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, sipping on the liquid courage as I made my way to the other side of the room. Antonio seemed to realize my eyes were on him, and he tilted his head, smiling at me, while absentmindedly rubbing the wrist where his gold Rolex sat just below his cuff. He turned back to the conversation as the large man became more animated, puffing angrily on his cigar.
"I’ve already agreed to hear you out, Mr. Harden," I heard Antonio say in that rich, quiet voice of his. "There's no need to press me further."
"But I have a couple beauties you might like to look over," the man said, speaking around the cigar. "Perhaps you could drop by the warehouse later this evening."
"Some other time," Antonio said, and turned his back on Harden.
Realistically, I should not have been surprised to see that he treated others as dismissively as he treated me.
"Antonio, I need to—"
He leaned close to me, murmuring in my ear. "Perfect timing," he said, slipping an arm around my waist and spinning me around to walk with him. "Don’t look back."
I glanced up at him and he gave me a sidelong glance that I took as a warning. He was weaving through the crowd purposefully, but still taking the time to casually nod and greet people as we passed. I did my best to smile politely and try not to stumble in my heels as we escaped into the almost empty front foyer.
"Well done, Angela," Antonio said as Thompson pulled the limousine away from the gallery. "I'm very pleased with your demeanor and performance tonight. I'm sure you'll do as well with the other events. Now, for tomorrow, we'll start your apprenticeship with Priscilla, our floor manager. Welcome onboard."
I felt like laughing, even though I was frowning. "Well, I’m happy I passed your little test, Mr. Mancini," I said biting my lip, "But I have a few questions for you."
"Priscilla will answer your questions."
"That’s not what I meant," I said, but he silenced me with a single raised finger as he reached into his pocket to retrieve his buzzing cellphone.
Frustrated once again, I folded my arms and turned away angrily as he responded to the text message. In the meantime, I stared out the window, quietly seething over my predicament. My mind was in turmoil, confused about what I’d overheard, angry at the way Antonio treated me, and angrier at myself for going along with any of this in the first place.
Was this situation and money worth it? It might take me a lot longer, but would it really be so bad to work off my father’s debt some other way? Some way that didn’t leave me feeling guilty, worried, and confused?
I gasped as a tickle gently brush along my neck. I’d been so absorbed by my own thoughts that I didn’t realize he had ended his call.
"You really do look beautiful tonight, Angela."
I turned my head to find Antonio had moved closer to me. He was watching me with deep intensity, not with the appraising, distant look I had come to expect. His gaze held that strange something else I had seen earlier. The look that softened the lines of his face, implying that there was more to this man than simply business—or anything else I might suspect of him.
My anger and frustration melted into a smile. "Thank you, Antonio."
He chuckled, the corner of his lip lifting slightly. "I thought you might have forgotten my first name."
"Oh." I put a hand to my lips. "I’m sorry."
"Don’t be," he smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face. "This may be a business relationship, but there is no need to remain formal. I already asked you to call me Antonio."
The warmth of his breath brushed my shoulder and the sweet scent of champagne mixed with the woody scent of his cologne. The limousine was suddenly too warm, and I silently cursed myself, feeling a blush rising in my cheeks.
"Wait for my call," he said. Then he laughed as I stared at him blankly. "I'll arrange for Thompson to pick you up tomorrow. Until then, I thank you for a lovely evening, Angela. Have a good night."
"What?" I realized that the car had come to a stop and looked out the window to see my little house sitting at the end of the driveway. I was suddenly embarrassed, ashamed to have him see where I lived.
In a house he owned. I reminded myself.
That thought sobered me and I found myself scrambling out of the car the moment Thompson opened the door. "Good night," I said without looking back. I couldn't bear to have him see the tears that burned my eyes.
Chapter Fifteen
The limousine didn’t pull away until I’d closed the front door behind me. Through the window I watched the tail lights disappear down the street, my thoughts in turmoil.
"Well," came a voice, "was it fun?"
"Maria! Why are you still awake?"
She wheeled into the front foyer, her eyes bright in the dim moonlight. "I couldn’t sleep. I heard the limo pull up and thought I’d come out to check up on you. Soooo….? Tell me, tell me!"
I smiled, as some of the tension in my chest melt away. Her happiness was infectious. "It was… interesting," I said, hobbling across the living room and slumping into the couch. "But I’m glad to get out of these shoes!"
Maria laughed. "You’re going to have to give me way more than that, sis!"
"Oh all right," I grinned. "Well, Thompson picked up Antonio at his place—which was amazing, by the way. It’s one of those gorgeous white mansions with the marble steps leading up to dark wood doors. You know the kind Mom and Dad used to drive by when we were kids?"
"Yes, our dream home," she giggled excitedly. "What was it like on the inside?"
"Antonio was waiting for us, so I didn’t get to go in for a peek."
"Oh," Maria pouted slightly. "Maybe next time then," she added with a wink. "What did Antonio think of his hot date?"
I laughed, reaching up to pull the pins out of my hair. "He kept telling me how great I looked. I really have to thank you for helping me with all of this." I shook my head, letting my hair tumble over my shoulders. The soft cinnamon waves brushed over my skin, reminding me of Antonio’s touch. I glanced at Maria, who was watc
hing me expectantly. I blushed.
"Aha!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "You definitely can’t give me a look like that and not spill the beans!"
"Fine," I said, pushing myself up off of the couch, heading toward my bedroom. "You want the story, then you have to help me get out of this dress."
She followed me eagerly, unzipping the back of my dress and helping me put the delicate diamond jewelry back into their boxes, to be returned in the morning.
"The gallery was amazing, Maria," I said, trying to focus on the story I wanted to paint for her. She was so happy. I didn’t want to bring her down with the truth of what was really going on—especially since I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. "The food was delicious and the designs were off the hook. I don’t know who could ever wear any of the clothes the mannequins had on, but they definitely were the height of artistic expression. I wish I'd had my camera with me." I sighed. "I’ve certainly got a lot to learn about the fashion industry."
"And what about the handsome Mr. Mancini?"
I glanced at her and smiled coyly. "He was a very gracious date. He introduced me to all sorts of fascinating people that I’d never have even dreamed of meeting in a million years. Everything was so glamorous," I said, letting the dress slip off my body. My breath caught as the cool, sensuous fabric flowed over my skin. I shuddered briefly, imagining Antonio’s hands trailing the fabric down my body, and then mentally shook myself, annoyed that he was having this effect on me.
"Maria," I said, turning away from her so she couldn’t see the heat rising in my cheeks, "can we chat tomorrow? I know you really want to hear this, but I’m exhausted. I'll tell you everything over pancakes tomorrow morning, first thing okay?"
Maria tilted her head and gave me a playful pout. "Oh all right, princess. You get your beauty sleep."
I bent down and gave her a kiss on the forehead before she turned to wheel out of my bedroom. I followed her to her room and helped her into bed, promising again that I’d tell her everything in the morning.